


There's Fire in Those Eyes

by Nihil404



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Azazel Being an Asshole (Supernatural), Demons Are Assholes, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Fallen Angel Azazel (Supernatural), Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting to Know Each Other, Hurt/Comfort, John Winchester Being John Winchester, John Winchester Being an Asshole, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Supernatural (TV) Spoilers, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:14:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29535975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nihil404/pseuds/Nihil404
Summary: The flames of Hell couldn't reach the pit. Demons climbed towards the flames of their demise, only to fall back down and try to escape again. John, though, preferred the safety of the darkness over the torture heard above. That is until a familiar face is thrown at his feet, the pit's most recent victim. John couldn't forget him, even if he wanted to. He could never forget those fire-like, yellow eyes.
Relationships: Azazel/John Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 4





	1. Down Below

It was dark down in the pit. The flames of Hell couldn't reach this far down, so all the poor souls that ended up here were cursed to rely on their dwindling wits and dulled senses. The brave ones fought each other to race up towards the dancing warmth of hellfire. Most were sent crashing back down into the freezing oblivion of the pit only to begin the treacherous climb once again. Some souls got stuck in this loop, most stopped after their third attempt, but some never tried to escape. John was one of the few souls content with staying in the eternal void, knowing why he was there in the first place. He had sold his soul for his boy, and while he was expecting torture, this seemed more fitting for him. The smell of sulfur and smoke had become too familiar for his liking, the way they mixed no longer made him nauseous as he would breathe in. John had no idea how long he had been in the pit. If he was being honest with himself, he didn't care. There was no one for him to risk climbing out for since both of his boys were alive and Mary was in…  


A loud thud followed by the shocked gasp of a few nearby demons broke him out of his thoughts. From the darkness, a shadowy figure had landed somewhat close to John. It lay still, curling in on itself as if it was a child hiding from the boogeyman in its closet. The Hunter leaned forward to see if he could make out anything familiar about the figure, but it was a fruitless task. He knew who this was the second the figure opened his eyes. Those damned eyes that John could remember staring through the night of Mary's death. They seemed to hold the flames of Hell itself within them, glowing just as brightly. John could pinpoint this demon from a mile away, right down to the smell of smoke and sulfur that he had thought to be a familiar scent. The two made eye contact as Yellow Eyes glanced around the pit, the sickening snap of his fingers echoing throughout the vast expanse as a familiar glow shown from his fingertips. The flame exposed his off-putting smile, far too wide to be human, as he sat up, crossing his legs while resting his elbow on his knee while cupping his cheek with his free hand. 

“Welcome home, you son of a bitch.” John stared at the yellow-eyed demon before him with a glare that could rival the flames of Hell.

“It’s good to see you again, Johnny boy~” Azazel taunted, leaning forward to get a better view of the poor soul that John had signed away in the hospital. The flame in his hand curled in the air in the absence of walls to climb up. It somehow looked more passive than the flames that surrounded both Mary and John that night. The two stared at each other for a few moments, a mutual hatred present between them. The tension was so known that the surrounding demons retreated away from the flame, leaving the two alone in their section of the pit.

"Y'know, now that I'm getting a good look at your soul, you're pretty similar to us demons already." The comment from his wife's killer sent shivers down John's spine and through his arms. In response, the hunter backed away from the demon which only resulted in Azazel moving closer. John sighed, continuing to glare at the source of his desire for revenge. Small flicks of fire trickled off of the flame at Azazel's fingertips like sparks on an open wire. The demon risked moving closer to his former possession but was stopped at the sight of John chuckling to himself.

"What got you sent here Yellow Eyes? A lil' run-in with the Colt?" John said with a child-like sense of amusement. Surely he hadn't thought that it would be put into good hands after it was surrendered. Azazel went silent, and John's chuckles became laughs as the demon averted his eyes.

"Who knew that Dean was so good with that gun? I certainly didn't. That is, until he used one of the bullets on my boy. Imagine my surprise when he used it on _me _!" Yellow Eyes flashed a wicked smile before continuing, his voice musing over each word as he made the light around them grow to get a good look at John's reaction, "It's a shame that little Sammy had to die first though."__

John's eyes widened in surprise as his laughter ceased. It wasn't possible, was it? Sam couldn't be… No. This was just a way to get John riled up and angry judging by the smile on his tormenter’s face, but damn did it work. The demon knew very well that the easiest way to get deep into John's psyche was to mention his boys. It was something he had picked up on while possessing the hunter. Sam meant a lot to him, that was a given since the boy was younger, more vulnerable to monster attacks. Dean though, that was a whole burning bridge in itself. John didn’t outright hate the boy, but their relationship was obviously different than the one with Sam. They were more like a drill sergeant and a hardened soldier. Azazel shook his head, turning his attention back to the angered hunter. His face was glowing red to the point where Azazel couldn’t tell if it was from anger or the flame itself. Wrath had its way with John, wrapping around his soul and blinding his mind.

“If this was how John got at the mere mention of his boys,” Azazel stopped pondering to take in the view of the angered Winchester, putting every little detail, such as the way his flames danced over John’s ever-present glare, safely away in his memory. With a flick of his wrist, the pit was doused into midnight once again, save for the glow of the fallen ruler’s haunting yellow eyes.


	2. Seal the Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azazel taunting John for a bit bc I gotta get that "enemies" part in

Life was no longer bearable in the pit. Not as long as both of them were here. The taunting from Azazel had been constant for around two weeks at this point with John joining in once the stares from the surrounding demons became… noticeable. John couldn’t actively see them staring, the sense of being watched is what got his attention. Their pitch-black eyes seemed to linger over their former leader as well as the hunter as if searching for something. Azazel either didn’t notice or didn’t care about their stares, most likely the latter based on how he would occasionally glance to the side when annoying the hunter. Every so often one of the two would strike a nerve, resulting in a small fight that usually didn’t last long. The other demons in the pit liked to keep activity quiet as not to draw attention to the flames above them. The pair had learned what made the other tick by now. They had moved onto learning what made the other crumble. 

“Ah, another day in the pit with my favorite person!” The sarcasm in Azazel’s voice was so noticeable it might as well have been a true statement. He sat with his legs crossed in front of John, much to the other’s displeasure. The demon was slowly sitting closer to John with each meeting, not out of trust, simply out of the desire to annoy the hunter. By this point, the two no longer needed Azazel’s personal hellfire to see each other. They had become used to the figures each possessed.

“Another day in the pit with my least favorite demon,” John smirked once the lingering stares of the demons around the two had faded. A few faint chuckles could be heard from the souls that heard the hunter which were quickly followed by the panicked yelps from those in the way of the former prince’s flames. An amused snicker escaped Azazel’s lips as he turned back to face John.

“You think you’re funny, Johnny?” The prince’s smile could be heard from a mile away as he leaned towards John. The two locked eyes for a moment before the hunter spoke up, a smirk of his own present on his lips.

“I do, Azzy,” John watched as the demon cringed at the nickname. He beamed at the expression on the other’s face like a child on Christmas morning. Making a mental note of the way Azazel’s face scrunched up from something he had said, John moved away from the other to avoid hellfire that might potentially come his way. The demon before him had gone quiet and still. It was enough for John to feel a tad concerned. A little nickname couldn’t have been the thing that tipped Azazel off, could it? No, this was just an act to make John reach into the pits of his soul to find a bit of compassion for the demon. It had to be. The worst part about the act? It worked. John leaned forward to reach his hand out to the ex-prince, stopping as a small snap had been heard. The hunter pulled his hand back as a ring of hellfire formed around the two, lighting up the area and separating John and Azazel from the other demons. He looked towards Azazel, puzzled by the demon’s sudden outburst. 

“What the hell was that for?”

“I hate the way they stare at us,” Azazel’s eyes were trained on the ground, but there was anger laced in between his words. John wondered how much he could get away with, but before he could say anything the other began to chuckle. The hunter narrowed his eyes. If Azazel was finding humor in this then that meant he was planning to do something to John. Luckily, there were no ceilings, or walls for that matter, for him to be lifted onto. He cringed at the thought, shaking his head before making eye contact with Azazel. The demon widened his eyes for a moment as if the cold stare of John’s eyes had been a surprising thing. Was he expecting the feeling to be mutual? John couldn’t care less whether the demons were watching the pair. They could still hear them beyond the crackling of the flames. Azazel lowered his eyes, scanning the ground as if looking for something before a wicked grin spread across his face.

“You were embarrassed!” John smiled, the joy in his voice could have been heard for miles.

“Hey, you remember the deal you made up above?” Yellow-Eyes sat back, his palms pressed firmly against the ground behind him as he stared at John with unblinking eyes. Of course the hunter remembered the deal. It was his soul for Dean’s life, how could he possibly forget? He looked back at the demon, unsure of what Azazel was trying to do. 

“Well, usually those are sealed with a kiss, but you didn’t give me time to say that when ya' made it Johnny~” The lilt in Azazel’s voice made John furrow his eyebrows in anger, his eyes shooting bullets through the demon in front of him. There was no way in hell he was going to do that. The deal was already-

“Now, I could have one of my buddies go up there and reverse the deal, but then poor ol’ Sammy would be all alone,” A pout of fake sadness stretched across the prince’s lips, the bottom lip pushed out further to exaggerate the point. John’s hand had curled into a fist at the comment. This was just another way to dig under his skin. Make him angry. He wasn’t about to give Azazel what he wanted, at least not this easily. The demon had a way with words, John would give him that. The hunter’s stare was unwavering, eyes focused on what the demon was doing, and yet he hadn’t seen when the pout went from being exaggerated to being genuine. 

“What’s wrong, never been rejected before?” John smirked, feeling as if he finally had found a way to fire back at Azazel. An exaggerated gasp invaded his ears as the prince placed a hand over his chest. He was one for the theatrics, John had noticed.

“Well now you’ve hurt me, John. Truly a comeback for the ages! No one could _possibly_ compete!” The sarcasm was so noticeable that John actually snickered at it. Azazel couldn’t seriously think that this would get the hunter to kiss him just to complete a deal, right? No, there had to be an ulterior motive. He was just trying to rile John up. He had tried and failed to do this for two weeks. He would continue to do this until he got the desired reaction. The two knew each other’s weaknesses and yet neither had broken. The only thing that hadn’t been mentioned were their children. It was an unspoken rule. After all, Azazel had lost his son to the Colt and his daughter to an exorcism and John had just given up his life to save his oldest boy. John was feeling brave, though, and leaned forward towards Azazel, placing his elbows on his knees.

“We both had things taken from us. You took my wife from me and my boys took your children from you,” A smirk spread like butter across John’s face when Azazel narrowed his eyes at the hunter. It was a warning. The deal was still up in the air. One snap of his fingers and Dean could be down here in the pit in a heartbeat. John continued, putting as much sarcasm into his voice as possible.

“You waltz into my house, bleed on my boy, _murder my wife_ , and expect me to kiss you for saving Dean?”

“You think I just waltzed in?” The question caught John off guard. It seemed genuine. The hunter had no reason to believe Azazel didn’t just enter Sam’s bedroom that night. No one had let him in, especially not Mary. Dean was in bed, John had passed out in his chair. What other way could Azazel have gotten into the house? Unless he was...

"I'll leave you to your thoughts Johnny," Azazel laid down near his flames, his break facing towards John. The hunter could hear the chuckle from his enemy as if it was right in his ears. It wrapped around him like smoke, invaded his ears like the sirens of trucks. The bastard was having fun with this. John watched as the demon's breathing slowed, almost coming to a halt as if he had fallen asleep. The hunter couldn't remember the last time he had slept in this place. Couldn't remember how long he had been trapped down here. He never cared enough to know. That didn't matter at the moment though. All that mattered was how Azazel got into the house. Every thought came to the conclusion that he had to have invaded the home. He couldn't have gotten past John, let alone made it up into the room if he hadn't broken in. There was no other…


End file.
